


The Safe House on Elm Street

by dennih23



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Gen Prompt Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4823795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dennih23/pseuds/dennih23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter gets an unexpected call from Mozzie</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Safe House on Elm Street

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters to not belong to me
> 
> A/N: fills the laboratory square on my gen prompt bingo card since my first thought was that one of his safe houses is actually a laboratory.  
> Unbeta’d – all mistakes are mine

 

 

Peter rubbed the sleep from his eyes and grabbed his cell phone. Glancing at the clock he noticed it was two am. His first thought was ‘what the hell did Caffrey do this time!’

“Burke” he barked into the phone. When El shifted he immediately regretted his tone; he didn’t mean to wake her up.

“Suit. We have a problem. I need you to get here right away.”

“Mozzie? Where are you?”

“I’m at Monday. I’ll text you the address, but I need you to get here quickly.”

Peter was surprised at how upset Moz sounded. “Okay, settle down, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

He wondered what kind of mayhem the two men had gotten themselves into, and why was Mozzie calling him and not Neal. This could not be good.

Peter quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and tee shirt. He grabbed his holster and gun just in case. Kissing his lovely wife he whispered, “Be back soon. I love you.”

El mumbled back, “Love you too, Hon.”

Thirty minutes later he pulled in front of Mozzie’s safe house. If not for the small light shining through a window in the back of the building Peter would have guessed it was just another abandoned building. He checked and the side door was unlocked. Peter cautiously entered the building. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what he found.

Glancing around the large space he noticed all the old, dusty wooden crates piled from floor to ceiling. One of the boxes caught Peter’s attention and he walked over to inspect it. There were strange markings on the side that looked like some sort of hieroglyphics.

A loud bang caused Peter to jump. He grabbed his gun from of his holster and took a stance waiting for, well he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.

Peter called out. “Haversham – you in here?”

“Be right out Suit.”

A door that Peter hadn’t noticed creaked open. He turned and watched as smoke wafted its way through the open passageway and Moz suddenly appeared. Peter didn’t know what to make of the situation. Haversham was dressed in a white lab coat that was flying out around him and the man was wearing safety goggles over his glasses. His appearance reminded Peter of a mad scientist.

“Ah Suit, you made it.”

“I’m here. Now, what’s so important that you needed to wake me up in the middle of the night?”

Mozzie scanned the area. “You’re alone, correct?”

“Yes, just me.” Peter thought this was getting more bizarre with each passing moment.

“Okay, then. We have a problem with Neal.”

“What do you mean, there’s a problem?”

“Follow me.” Mozzie turned and headed back through the door with Peter following closely behind. He almost ran into Moz when the man stopped unexpectedly. “Just so you know Suit, this is not my fault. I told Neal not to touch anything, but you know Neal, he never listens.”

Peter let out a deep sigh and pondered what kind of mess he would have to clean up. He stepped around Moz and came to a stop. His jaw dropped; standing in front of him was Neal, or to be more accurate, there were three pint sized versions of Neal standing in front of him. They all seemed to be about five years old. Simultaneously the Neal’s all grinned at Peter and cried out, “P’tr!” At that Peter passed out.

Satchmo’s soft woof caused Peter to stir. He opened his eyes and groaned. His head ached and it felt as though someone had kicked him in the stomach. He relaxed at El’s touch when she started rubbing his back and shoulders.

“Hon, are you okay? You were tossing and turning in your sleep.”

He leaned over and kissed his wife. “Sorry Hon, I dreamed there were multiple Neal’s.”

His wife let out a small laugh. “I told you not to eat that deviled ham sandwich.”

Peter could only moan. Never again would he eat his favorite food before going to bed.


End file.
